Spark
by MirandaLaney
Summary: Allison Cameron has a deadly secret that is about to be discovered. Crossover between House and Firestarter by Stephen King. Based on the book, but if you've seen the movie you'll understand it.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Neither House nor Firestarter belong to me as much as I wish they did. House belongs to it's producers and Firestarter belongs to Stephan King._

_I read the book Firestarter and enjoyed it so much that I wanted to write a fic about it. I also love House and wanted to combine the two. This story centers around Cameron, but includes the other characters too. House might be a bit OOC, but he's hard to write. However, this story doesn't center completely on him. Please R&R, but be nice it's my first fic._

_Story takes place right after the episode Airborne. Contains spoilers up to the episode._

_House:_ "Gorgeous women do not go to medical school. Unless they're as damaged as they are beautiful. Were you abused by a family member?"  
_Cameron:_ "No."  
_House:_ "Sexually assaulted?"  
_Cameron:_ "No."  
_House:_ "But you are damaged, aren't you?"

Spark

_I stood there watching the barn burn. The conflagration seemed to reach beyond the sky. It had become unstoppable even for me. Watching it burn I muttered under my breath, "For you, Daddy." I felt a strange satisfaction of watching the place where my Daddy and I had been held captive for half a year burn. I was even happier to know that I had started that fire. Suddenly from the barn, I heard a rustling noise._

_I walked towards the barn hoping against hope that the noise was my Daddy. Perhaps he wasn't dead. Perhaps he had just fainted or something. Suddenly, someone emerged from the flames. It wasn't my Father. It was John. John, who had betrayed me, was covered in my flames, but was coming closer and closer to me with each step. I tried to let out the power to beat him back with more fire, but for the first time in my life the power refused to come._

_In seconds, John grabbed a hold of me. His flesh was black and falling to pieces, but it seemed as if he would never die. He snarled at me and muttered,_

_"Charlie, I want to see your eyes as you die."_

_The fire had caught my jumper and I fought to get free. It was quickly spreading. I couldn't stop it. I screamed for help, but no one would help me. I had almost killed all of them and not entirely on accident. Suddenly, I felt the power return. I pushed out as hard as possible and struck John. The fire that was consuming him began to glow blue with heat. He let go and began to scream in agony._

_Then I remembered the flames licking their way up my clothes. The heat was beginning to overwhelm me. I could feel sweat rolling down my face and body. If I didn't get the fire out soon, it would burn me alive. Just like John. I started to beat the flames madly, trying to put them out. Nothing was working. My frustration was only causing more power to leap out and build up the heat. What was I going to do? The heat was becoming too much._

**Princeton, New Jersey**

I sat up drenched in sweat. The sheets were twisted around my legs and were soaked. I could smell the smoke coming from the headboard of my bed. I had lit it on fire again. I quickly stood up and pulled one of my many fire extinguishers from the wall. Luckily it was a small fire and it hadn't burned me.

After putting the fire out, I glanced at the clock. I had eight minutes till I needed to get ready for work. Not enough time to go back to sleep. I turned a fan on in my room to help dispel the smoke and walked out to my kitchenette. Moving over to my coffee maker, I pour myself a cup. I made this brew yesterday so it's gone stone cold. I glance over at the window in habit. Nobody is watching me. After my glance towards the window, I turn back to my cold coffee. My eyes lock on it and it begins to simmer. I'm actually pretty good at making small amounts of heat with no emotional input.

I sit down to watch the morning news. Not too many big stories for which I'm grateful. It's nice not to see your name on every news report. I quickly dress and try to keep my mind from wandering, but it's hard. Today is going to be a hard day. Today would have been my Father's birthday if he wasn't dead. Normally on this day, I get drunk in my apartment which keeps the bad dreams at bay. However, I have to go to work so maybe throwing myself into my work will help me cope.

Fifteen minutes before I normally arrive at work, I leave my apartment. It's a nice sunny day, but I could care less. I really wish my Father were here, but he's not. I blast the radio to try and keep my thoughts on work. At least my Boss will be able to distract me enough. I spend a lot of my time either working his crazy schemes or trying to prevent them. Finally, I pull into the hospital. I park in my spot which is rather far from the building. After all, I'm not handicapped or hurt in any way. I can walk just fine.

I don't look at the name plate in front of my parking spot. It has my new name on it. I legally changed it when I turned fifteen with the help of my guardians. My real name is Charlene "Charlie" McGee, but most people know me as Allison Cameron. Most days the name doesn't bother me, but today I feel like I let my Father down by changing it. Oh well, just ignore it and it might go away. I walk into the hospital and remember to make niceties with the nurses and other doctors. If I didn't, they'd know something was wrong. They think I'm always happy.

I'm the first of my colleagues to arrive so I sit down and start going through my Boss's mail. He told me my first day that sorting the mail was also my job. I'm so used to it now that I don't really care. I almost got in trouble on my second day while sorting because I set one of the letters on fire. Thankfully, it was junk and I could throw it away. Nobody was ever the wiser.

The door opens behind me and one of my colleagues walks in. Eric Foreman walks over and drinks the coffee I made earlier. Another one of my jobs. He then settles down to read the paper. We're good friends, but haven't got much to talk about yet. Finally, Robert Chase enters through the door. He's the last of the colleagues besides our Boss who will probably be late. Chase doesn't give me even a small smile. We just stopped sleeping together. He wanted more of a relationship, but I couldn't give him that. I care for him very deeply and that is why I can't give him anymore. As long as I have pyrokinesis, I'm a danger to people. Usually I can control it, but unbridled emotions can cause dangerous spurts of power. I can't afford to be in love.

After I met my first husband, I knew he was going to die. If I hadn't married him, he would have been alone. I hate being alone and would never wish it on anyone. One our wedding night while making love, I set part of the hotel room on fire. I told my husband my story that night and he promised not to tell. I guess I'm afraid that Chase will be so horrified by my power that I will lose him entirely. What if he told someone? I like my life here and I don't really want to move. I don't want to run anymore.

Finally, fifteen minutes late, our boss, Gregory House limps in. He recently pretended to have brain cancer to get a new form of high. His vicodin just isn't doing much for him anymore. I was really upset over the thought of losing the man I had come to have feelings for, but I probably felt the most hurt or anger of his deception. Yes, he's in pain, but he's not the only person who has problems. I've been betrayed before and discovering his lie was like reliving the whole experience all over again.

House hobbles over and takes the pile of significant mail that I give him. He then dry swallows another vicodin. I can only imagine how many he's had today. I'm surprised and annoyed when the man doesn't put up a case. How can this be happening? The one day that I need something to distract me is the one day that we don't have a case. I'm not really surprised. Fate decided that it didn't like me a long time ago. Suddenly I have a grand idea to distract myself. I turn to House.

"Don't you have clinic duty all day today?"

House looks annoyed that I would mention it. I think he was going to pretend to forget about it. Like Cuddy would let him get away with that. Recently it's been, if Cuddy has to perjure herself in court she owns your ass. Imagine what she'd think if she had to testify that I was or wasn't Allison Cameron. Obviously she doesn't know about my true identity, but I can imagine how much I'd have to pay her to swear that I really was Allison Cameron. That is if she knew the truth. Never mind, back to my brilliant idea.

"Yes, I do. Thank you so much, Dr. Cameron, for reminding me."

I try to ignore his tone. Maybe his tone is why I fell in love with him. Unlike John, he's never tried to be anything he wasn't. House doesn't try to be someone else. He is as rude as he wants to be and I love knowing where I stand with him. However, his little stunt with Tritter and the brain cancer threw him down a few notches on my feelings ladder. He had lied to me just like John did. I had better get back to my idea because thinking about John still makes me want to cry. After all, he killed my Father.

Seeing that we had no case, Foreman left to go check on other patients and probably do some of his clinic duty. Chase left to work in the NICU. I personally don't know if I could work in the NICU, I think it would upset me too much. Finally alone with my Boss, I decided to finally steal his clinic duty. It would give me something to do until I could go home and get drunk. I wish I could take Chase home and screw him like crazy. That would certainly keep my mind off my Father. After all, the last thing a woman wants to think about while having sex is her Father.

I tried to steal the clinic duty without raising any questions.

"If your leg hurt too much today, I'll take your clinic duty for today."

I should have realized that any such comment coming from one of his underlings would raise his suspicions. Recently, none of us had been too fond of him. And none of us was volunteering to help him out. Now I was.

"What do I have to do for you to do that, Dr. Cameron? Let you have your way with me?"

I shook my head. House really didn't need to know anything about my Father or my real past. Actually, if he knew the truth, it might kill him.

"Look, you seem extra irritable and I don't want to force that on any poor unsuspecting sick person. I'll sign in with one of the nurse who I'm friends with. She'll say it was you if I ask her too."

House looked even more suspicious. He opened his mouth as if to question my reasoning again, but I cut him off quickly.

"Well, I guess if you really want to work the clinic then I'll go check on some other patients and then go home. I heard that colds were going around the local grade schools and preschools, so you'll have lots of worried Moms to deal with."

That seemed to be the deal breaker. House nodded and agreed to give me his duty.

"Just don't forget to make sure Cuddy thinks it's me. Don't make any girly G's when you sign my name."

I nodded and left quickly. I assumed that he would either hide in his office or go bother Wilson. I just hoped that he wouldn't tell Wilson about my strange behavior. I've heard that Wilson has a way of getting information out of women. And I've heard that the information extraction can be very very wonderful for all parties.

The clinic is very busy just like I said. A lot of small children with their worried Moms were filling the place. I walked over and made my deal with Nurse Linda. She agreed to keep it quiet probably because she felt bad for me. My first case was a little girl named Shari. She had a cold and I could tell, but her Mom hadn't brought her in. Her Dad did. Just what I needed was to see, a loving Dad taking care of his little girl. However, the Dad also believed that it was probably a cold so the appointment didn't take long.

I had six more cases before I took a break. I went outside and got a cup of coffee. It wasn't hot enough so I gave it a small push of power. It soon came to a rolling boil. I let it cool for a minute before sipping on it. I heard the door open and Chase came out. He was probably taking a break and hadn't expected me to be here. Discomfort causes me to suddenly want nothing more than to be at Granther's cabin on Tashmore Pond. It was the last time my Father and I were truly happy together. I wondered slightly if my Curious George books were still there.

I suddenly turned on Chase.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"I'm sorry too. Are you sure you don't want to try having more of a relationship? Who knows, it could be even more fun than the sex." He looked sad and I felt for him. He had bared his soul to me and I was going have to step on it again.

"I can't do that. I'm sorry, but I just can't." I stare down at my feet and wish things were different.

"It's because of House isn't it? You're just trying to make him jealous and you don't care who you hurt in the process."

"No, it's not that. I don't want to hurt you anymore and I don't want a relationship with House. I just…" I trailed off, stood up, and hurried inside; back to work.

I hurried into the clinic and Nurse Linda handed me a file. The man's name was Orville Jamison. His ailment was a sore throat and an old dog bite that had never fully healed was infected. I walked into the room with a doctor smile on my face. The man sat on the table and I saw his face. It was a face that I would recognize anywhere, but hadn't seen in over twenty years.

I felt my heart literally stop. I think it might have for a few seconds. It then sped up to over 120 bpm. This was the face of man I had once set on fire at the Mander's farm outside of Hastings Glen. I had also seen him climb over the fence during his escape from my reign of fire on the SHOP. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to burn this man to a crisp. I wanted to make him pay for trying to kill my Father at the Mander's farm those years ago. That feeling passed with a reminder of my Hippocratic Oath, "Do No Harm".

I forced myself to focus. Now more than ever, I needed to remember that I wasn't Charlene McGee anymore. I wasn't even Charlie. I was Dr. Allison Cameron. I dyed my hair dark brown and wore brown contacts. I had changed a lot since the last time I had seen OJ as he liked to be called. I turned to him and had to bite back an angry remark, but instead said,

"Mr. Jamison, I'm Dr. Cameron. What seems to be the problem?"

OJ gave me a small smile. "My throat hurts like crazy and a dog bite on my arm has been itching like crazy."

"Let me take a look at both."

OJ first let me look down his throat and then at his arm. I immediately figured that they were related. The dog bite was infected and the infection had spread to his body. It had given him a sore throat. I explained this to him calmly and then wrote him a prescription for an antibiotic. It would help clear up the infection. I also told him to take it easy for a few days.

OJ got up and took the script. He gave me another smile which made me want to hit him.

"Thanks, Doc."

As he left, I responded, "Welcome, OJ. Remember to take it easy." The word OJ had just slipped out, but he heard it. I didn't know if he still went by OJ, but that didn't really matter.

"How'd you know my nickname, Doc?" He seemed as nervous as I was.

"I guessed it. You'd better go and fill that script." I tried hard to keep the fear out of my voice, but I could feel it creeping in. I quickly turned and faced a different direction. The less he saw of my face now the better. He didn't seem to believe my story, but he also didn't seem to want to question it further. He just wanted to leave.

I watched him leave. He crossed the lobby to check out and fill the script before coming to a complete stop. He turned around and stared at me with huge eyes. The realization had dawned on him. It had hit him like a ton of bricks. He recognized me. He then turned back around and continued to head to the checkout desk. Suddenly he stopped again, but didn't turn around. Actually, he fell straight forward and began to convulse.

My doctor senses kicked in immediately. I rushed to him and turned him on his side. I held on to him and screamed for some medication. A nurse rushed it to me as Dr. Wilson and Dr. Foreman came up. Both had been in the clinic at that moment. I administered the medication while Foreman helped hold him still. Wilson was calling for a gurney. OJ was going to have to be admitted.

Before the gurney arrived, OJ had stopped shaking and was slightly conscious. He stared up at Wilson, Foreman and me. Foreman was talking to him, but OJ's eyes were focused on me. As the gurney arrived, he began to lose consciousness again before muttering the one thing I hoped he would never say. Wilson and Foreman heard the name leave his lips, but neither connected it with me.

"Charlie"

After muttering my old name, OJ lost consciousness completely. At the moment, the word Charlie meant nothing, but when OJ regained consciousness someone was bound to ask who Charlie was. I just had to make sure that I got to talk to OJ first. I had to convince him that Charlie was gone and he had to remember that. As OJ was taken away, I felt a need to release the power. I needed to set a fire so I hurried from the room. I quickly made my way into the parking lot and climbed into my car. I pulled a bottle of water from the back seat and a bowl. Yes, I keep these things in my car. One never knows when one will need to boil water. I poured the water and pushed hard. It immediately went up in steam. Less than a minute later, the bottled water was completely gone, but the power was still there.

I got out of the car and crept behind the hospital. For once, no nurses or doctors were smoking behind the hospital. They must have all been on one of the roofs. I walked over to the trash dumpster. It was filled with newspapers, trash, old food and other things. Things that hopefully wouldn't explode if they spontaneously combusted. I took a few steps away and concentrated. The trash dumpster's contents began to burn. I could feel the heat and smell the smoke. The trash burned with a bad smell, but it didn't bother me. Getting the fire out felt so good I could hardly stand it. I watched the fire grow hotter and the dumpster began to twist and bend as it burned also. It burned like those cement blocks that I had destroyed for Hockstetter. Finally, I knew it was enough. I pulled back slowly and slowed it down. Hopefully I wouldn't need any water. It didn't want to be let off, but I used sheer force of will.

(BACK OFF!!! WILL YOU!!! BACK OFF!!!)

Finally, it responded. The heat receded and I felt it finally die. The trash dumpster was in ruins. It would have to be replaced. I felt somewhat guilty about that, but I justified it that if I hadn't done it I would surly have destroyed the hospital. Better an old metal container than a building filled with patients and friends. I quickly left the area. Someone would soon see the fire and I needed to be as far from the place as possible.

I rounded the building and came back in from a different door. I quickly headed back to House's office. OJ would probably become our patient and I was going to be needed to solve his case. As I headed up the stairs, I heard a nurse shout about a fire outside in the dumpster. I heard the fire department being called, but for once I didn't care. All I cared about was getting to work. I was going to be saving a man I didn't like and doing damage control over what had and could possibly come out of that man's mouth.

I was the last person to go into House's office. Symptoms and causes were already written up on the board. Infection, sore throat, enlarged tonsils, seizures, fever, and burns were all up. The burns must have been the skin graphs that he had required after Mander's farm. Maybe everyone thought that those skin graphs were part of the problem. I quickly entered and sat down. My skin was damp from sweating and I thought I saw a small look of jealousy cross Chase's face.

"Glad you could join us, Dr. Cameron. Come on, people, what else?"

I decided to stay low on this one. I honestly had no clue as to what could be making OJ ill. Normally, I'd have suggestions popping out of my mouth, but not right now. All I had was a strange ill will towards the man. If he died then my identity would stay with him into the ground. I quickly chastised myself for that thought. I've dealt with death enough to never wish it on someone.

Everyone besides me was producing suggestions right and left. Foreman wanted to check the man for STDs and test for the Epstein Barr virus. Either of those might be able to cause some of the symptoms. Chase guessed it was a regular infection that had become a whopping ass kicking infection. Then all eyes were on me. The other two had had ideas and now it was turn. And I couldn't think of a thing to say so I said the first autoimmune disease that popped into my head.

"It could be lupus."

Now the earlier stares were even worse. My idea had sucked and everyone knew it. The symptoms didn't fit lupus and everyone, including me, knew it.

"Thank you, Dr. Cameron, for mentioning what it isn't. Test for Epstein Barr and find out when this man's last date was. Maybe one of his dates or hookers or whatever had gonorrhea or syphilis. Start him on erythromycin for the infection."

We quickly left the room and hurried to carry out orders. I called out that I would take the patient history when he woke up and then hurried off to OJ's room. I entered the room to see the still sleeping OJ. He looked peaceful and unworried. I doubted that he would be that calm if he knew that I was in his room. I sighed slightly. I was going to have to do something that could get my license taken if I was caught.

I reached over and turned off the medication that was keeping him asleep. I needed him to be awake. Then I watched the thermometer as it began to rise. Sweat broke out on both our skin and I hoped he would wake up soon. Finally, the extreme heat caused him enough discomfort that OJ's eyes opened. He looked disoriented and lost, but upon seeing me standing there his expression turned to fear.

As I began to take control of the power, I walked up to him lying in bed. I had to get a patient history, but also make a deal with the man.

"OJ, I know that you know who I am. Calm down. I have no plan to hurt you."

He heard my words, but they did little to comfort him.

"Now listen carefully. I'm no longer Charlie McGee. I'm Allison Cameron. You are not to mention the name Charlie again. You are not to call me anything but Dr. Cameron and you will not mention the Shop. All right?"

He nodded slightly still shaking with fear. It actually felt good having someone be afraid of me. Normally, I let people walk all over me. I act as if I don't have much of a spine.

"If you should fail and anyone finds out about my identity, I'll be forced to make my destruction of the shop to look like a picnic. I don't want to do that, but I will if you make me." The words were none that had ever left my mouth before. I was not normally this cryptic.

He nodded stronger this time. A moment later, Foreman entered and I began to act like Allison Cameron again.

"Mr. Jamison, could you tell me when the last time you had sex was? Also could any of your partners have had an STD?"

OJ seemed startled by my change in attitude. He stammered that he and his girlfriend had last had sex a week ago. He was also sure that neither of them had an STD. I watched as Foreman walked over and checked the thermostat. He knew that it was too warm in here. Foreman glanced back at me and took in my sweaty appearance.

"Cameron, did you not notice how damn hot it is in here?"

"Oh yeah, I was going to fix that after I got the history. Sorry."

Foreman looks surprised. He probably thought that my first thought would be about the patient's comfort. Actually, I don't care about OJ's comfort at all. I finish my history while Foreman draws blood and turns up the air conditioner. He notices that I don't ask anything about the burns, but instead of reminding me, Foreman jumps in and asks OJ about them himself.

"Mr. Jamison, when did you get those burns on your legs?"

A look of pure terror crosses OJ's face. Without Foreman being any the wiser, I manage to shoot OJ a look. It's a look that says "Be Quiet!" His answer comes out as a quiet mutter.

"About twenty years ago. I got them graphed."

Foreman nodded noticing the discomfort on OJ's face. I stand up to leave as Foreman asks the worst question in the world.

"Mr. Jamison, who's Charlie? You muttered the name Charlie in the clinic. Who is he?"

OJ was quicker this time with his answer, "Charlie's my brother." Maybe Foreman will take his answer at face value.

"Would you like us to contact Charlie for you?"

OJ quickly shakes his head. A bit too quickly in my opinion. Foreman finishes drawing blood for his Epstein Barr virus test and leaves. I turned back to OJ.

"Don't forget to stick with that story. Charlie is your brother."

With that I leave. However, my mind is far from calm. It's wandering around in circles. I'm going to have to light something else on fire later today. For now, though, I can contain it.

The Epstein Barr virus test comes back positive as does the Chase's idea of a whopping kick ass infection of streptococcus. My lupus idea could not have been more wrong. We give OJ the medications that he's going to need and head home for the night. It's been a very long day and I need a strong drink. I wish I still had some of those drugs that I got from a former patient. I think the idea of being completely stoned would be very helpful. Upon arriving home, I down three shots of tequila and collapse into my bed hoping for a dreamless sleep.

I wake up in pain at about two in the morning. I stagger blindly out into my bathroom and turn on the faucet. Once the basin is full of water, I turn the power on it. Before long the water is gone. I repeat the process three more times. It feels so good to get the power out. It feels even better than the sex. Finally, I find and take some aspirin and then make my way back to bed. Hopefully, my sleep will be mercifully without dreams.

The next morning I wake up to harsh sunlight with the hangover from hell. I get up and find another aspirin. As I take a gulp of water, I suddenly feel like my stomach hurts. But it doesn't hurt like a normal hangover stomach ache. This ache hurt like I'm nervous. Why am I nervous? I shouldn't have to see OJ at all today. The last time I felt like this was at the Mander's farm before the Shop had first tried to take me. I felt them coming and I knew they were going to kill my Daddy.

I staggered into the bathroom and took a fast cold shower. It helped clear the fog that was hanging around my head, but only served to make the premonition worse. Something bad was going to happen, but I didn't know what.


	2. Chapter 2

_Here's chapter 2. This story's finished I'm just taking my time posting it. I don't know if I mentioned it, but there aren't any real ships in this story. There's a little Chase/Cameron and a little House/Cameron, but you need a magnifying glass to see it._

**Lisa Cuddy's Office**

Lisa Cuddy was sitting behind her desk. She was trying to schedule a guest speaker for the interns working here when House had time off. She didn't need him messing with another guest. In three weeks, House was scheduled to go down to Boston for a convention. Well, she would just have to make sure he went. The speaker could come then.

A rap on the door caused her to look away from her calendar. Two men stood outside her door. They were dressed in cheap off the rack suits and had a look of chronic constipation on their faces. She waved them in and stood to shake hands.

"How can I help you gentlemen?"

The first man, a tall guy with dark black hair cut short, shook her hand and then flashed a badge at her. It was a badge similar to the CIA's. Her first thoughts immediately went to House. What has House done now?

"Dr. Cuddy, I'm Agent Hopkins and this is Agent Brown. We're here to investigate the fire in your dumpster yesterday."

Cuddy wanted to laugh and then did.

"Gentlemen, it was just a dumpster fire. Someone probably just threw a cigarette in it that wasn't completely out."

Agent Brown pulled a photograph of the dumpster from his brief case. The dumpster metal was twisted and caved in spots. There were burn marks covering it.

"Dr. Cuddy, do you know how hot a fire would need to be to do this to metal? It would have to be at a temperature of more than 2500°F to do this. No cigarette fire burns at that temperature."

Cuddy swallowed and then sat back down. What had happened to that dumpster? Finally, Agent Hopkins' pulled another picture out. It was the picture of a young woman. It didn't look like a normal photograph, but rather like a computer simulation. It actually was a picture of an eight year old girl aged to around thirty. The woman had medium length blonde hair and bright blue eyes. A beautiful smile was across her lips.

"Dr. Cuddy, have you seen this woman. She'd be in her early thirties and may have any hair or eye color."

Cuddy stared at the photo and recognized the woman from the picture. She had different hair color and eye color, but this woman was obviously Allison Cameron. She told Agent Hopkins that the woman could be Allison Cameron.

The Agent looked at his partner. They nodded and turned back to Cuddy. "We'd like to speak to Dr. Cameron, please."

Cuddy nodded, feeling like something was very wrong, and picked up her phone. She dialed House's number and was not surprised when House didn't answer it. Obviously he was avoiding clinic duty.

She called twice more before giving up. The man would try anything to avoid doing work that he didn't like.

"Gentlemen, if you'll follow me, I'll take you up to where Dr. Cameron is."

**Run!!**

I had tried to answer the phone when it rang, but House had tried to smack me with his cane. It was probably Cuddy reminding him about clinic duty and he didn't want to have to deal with that. I had sat down and was sorting emails when the door opened. Cuddy entered along with two men in business suits. Neither looked happy in the slightest. Cuddy introduced the men as Agent Hopkins and Brown. House looked both intrigued and amused at the sight of these two men. He stood up and limped over.

"Cuddy's using the CIA to finally get me to do my clinic duty. Wow!!"

Hopkins stepped forward and held out his badge. "We're not here to see you, sir. We're here to speak with Allison Cameron."

I looked up from the computer and actually took in the two men. Chase looked up from his crossword puzzle and looked confused. Two CIA agents asking for me was the last thing anyone expected. I stood up and walked over to them.

"Are you guys from the Shop?"

Hopkins nodded slightly.

"Let me guess, this isn't a social call."

Hopkins shook his head this time and made my decision for me when he stepped forward. Before anyone could react, I tore headlong from the office. I was glad to have worn flat shoes because I had no idea where I was going. I was just running. Hopkins and Brown quickly followed me out. Fortunately I know this Hospital better than they themselves did.

Not wanting to wait for the elevator, I bolted down the stairs and headed for a back door. If I could get to my car I could get out of here. I had no idea that Cuddy and everyone else I knew was following me along with Hopkins and Brown. I pushed past several Nurses and patients. I didn't care who got knocked down in my wake as long as I got away. Finally, I saw my path to freedom. The doors that lead to my car were only feet in front of me. I slammed into the doors with all my force, but my forward movement was suddenly stopped. I ran straight into someone coming in from the parking lot.

I hear the man I ran into, Wilson, yell in surprise and then ask what's wrong. Why am I so upset acting? A moment later, Wilson is pushed away by Hopkins and Brown. They both have guns and I don't have time to unlock my car. The weapons are trained on me. I can here my Father's voice in my head.

"They've got themselves into a war, Charlie. Let them know their in a war."

Brown yells at me to freeze and put my hands in the air. Wilson is trying to tell them to leave me alone. After the number of times I've badgered him for information on House, Wilson thinks of me as some sad school girl with a hopeless crush. He thinks that whatever I may be, I'm not dangerous and I don't deserve to have guns pointed at me. Cuddy runs up a minute later with Chase, Foreman and several other doctors and nurses.

I stop my run and turn around with my hands in the air. I wonder briefly if I have started crying. It doesn't really matter because the tears are gone a second later. Before either man has a chance to fire their guns, I push hard. The guns instantly heat up beyond holding temperature. Instant spot heat causes them to hit temperatures of around 2500°F just like the dumpster. That should have been all, but I'm upset and stressed. Cuddy, Chase, Foreman and Wilson might be unsure as to why the Agents dropped their guns, but they are not unsure as to what happened next.

I pushed again. Mostly against my will because the power is racing with my emotions. Hopkins' suit burst into flames along with his hair. Brown's suit and hair follow Hopkins'. I see their car in the parking lot and allow it to be blown sky high. Fire bursts from it and I ignite the gas tank. The pain is unbearable. The pain that now I can never return to my fellowship with House. I can never go back to PPTH. They know the truth now.

One of the nurses has pulled a fire extinguisher on the Agents, but it does little good. The fire is simply too powerful to be stopped. I mutter something under my breath. I mutter,

"We're at war again. I'll show you what a war is."

However, while the staff tries to put the Agents out, I unlock my car and leap in. I hear Chase yell after me. I'm surprised that he doesn't sound mad. He sounds somewhat scared and sympathetic. I ignore him and everyone. I'm leaving. My car takes off and I leave the world that I had come to love so much. Goodbye, Allison Cameron. Hello, Charlie.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here's Chapter 3. Thanks to everyone who's reviewing. If anyone has any constructive critism I'd be glad to hear it. I can always improve._

**PPTH**

Pagers of every doctor in the PPTH are going off. There's an emergency in the ER. The smell of burning flesh is overpowering. Exactly how it happened is still a mystery, but people are now in a rush to save the two men. Taking the elevator downstairs, House walks up. He gags at the smell of the burning flesh.

"What's going on?"

"Those two guys were nearly burned to death in the parking lot. Dr. Cuddy is getting as much help for them as she can."

House left the nurse and searched around for Cuddy. He found her barking out orders. Chase and Foreman were running around trying to fill those orders. The men were going to need blood transfusions and to have much of their dead skin peeled off.

"I saw those guys in the ER. What the hell happened? They look like they've been cooked alive."

Cuddy nodded, "I'm not sure exactly what happened except that they just spontaneously combusted."

House actually looked horrified. He suddenly looked around.

"Where's Cameron? Shouldn't she be down here too?"

Cuddy bit her lip, "She was outside when it happened. She's not here anymore."

The blood drained from House's face. He didn't want to lose any of his ducklings. "Did she get hurt?"

Cuddy shook her head, "No, she's not hurt. She just took off."

The door suddenly was pulled open and the attending in the ER came out. He looked exhausted. The two doctors stared at him as he shook his head.

"We just lost both of them. They had massive burns not only on the skin, but Hopkins' heart was a piece of charcoal. Brown's burns destroyed several of his veins and arteries. He bled to death."

Cuddy heaved a sigh. This day was just getting worse. After all, one of her employees had somehow started a huge fire in the parking lot. And now the victims of that fire had died. Now what Cuddy needed most was answers. What had happened? Why had Cameron taken off? Who were these guys? A quiet voice came from behind her. It was the voice of a once strong man who had lost his nerve. Orville Jamison stood right behind her.

"Are you Dr. Cuddy?"

She nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Ma'am, I'm Orville Jamison. I was one of Dr. House's patients, but I know what happened."

Cuddy looked like she didn't believe him in the slightest. However, she was so desperate for answers that she was willing to look anywhere for help.

"All right, Mr. Jamison, what's going on?"

"That lady doctor, Dr. Cameron, she set those guys on fire didn't she."

Cuddy nodded.

"Those guys were from a branch of the CIA called the Shop. I used to be a member of the Shop long ago. I quit after the case of Charlene McGee. Charlene McGee was a little girl who could start fires with her mind. I think that Charlene McGee and Dr. Cameron are the same person."

Cuddy looked shocked and unbelieving at the same time. She wasn't sure if she should believe him or not. OJ then held out his arm to show off the dog bites.

"I got these when I was trying to escape the Shop compound when she was destroying it."

Wilson came into the hallway. He was carrying an old copy of the _Rolling Stone_ magazine. It held several pictures on the cover, but the largest one was of a flame. He flipped it open.

"I thought I'd heard about this kind of thing before. Fires spontaneously coming out of nowhere. I read it years ago in _Rolling Stone_. It's about a little girl named Charlie who could start fires just by thinking."

Wilson looked up at his colleagues and took in their surprised expressions. Now they knew, OJ hadn't been lying. He had been telling the truth. But could Allison Cameron really be Charlene McGee?

Chase suddenly turned to Cuddy, "We have to go find Cameron. She could be in trouble."

"She's already in trouble, Chase. She killed two men."

Wilson cut in, "She was trying to get away from them, Lisa. They pulled guns on her. It was self-defense."

Chase immediately cut to the point, "Self-defense or murder, it doesn't matter. We've got to find Cameron before they send more people after her."

"Does anyone know where Cameron would go if she needed some place to lay low?"

"She once said that her Great Grandfather had a cabin up in Vermont. Maybe she went there."

"Do we know where this cabin is in Vermont?"

"I remember something about Tashmore Pond."

"I guess that's where we need to go from here. If Hopkins or Brown has any family, they could sue the hospital. We've got to protect ourselves, Cameron and the hospital."

House nodded, but not truly understanding. Nobody understood the whole story because they were missing a key point. They were missing Cameron's part of the story. By the end of the day, House had heard as much of the story as anyone else knew. Two CIA agents had been killed by fire in the parking lot and somehow Cameron had started it. Now his curiosity was peaked. If anyone was going to find Cameron, he was coming too.

Cuddy canceled her appointments for the afternoon along with Wilson. House didn't have any patients beside OJ who was better enough to not need a doctor 24/7. At three o'clock, with maps from MapQuest they set out to find Allison Cameron or whoever she was.

**Tashmore Pond**

I arrived at Tashmore Pond several hours after leaving Princeton. I hadn't been here in over twenty years. The chain that my Father had put in place was still there. I quickly melted down the lock and drove through. I couldn't stay here very long, but I could stay for a few days. It would give me a chance to rest and think about my next plan.

The cabin was dirty due to nobody occupying it for a long time. I walked in and stood in the doorway. Memories of our winter stay here came back to me in painful rifts. I quickly went inside and found some old candles. I lit a few of them and sat down in Granther's old chair. I thought that they would leave me alone after so many years, but it seemed that I would never be fully safe. As long as the Shop was out there, my life was in peril. They didn't want to test me anymore. They want to kill me.

I went into the kitchen and found some glasses. After washing them, I poured myself a glass of water and sat back down in the chair. After an hour of just sitting in silence, I go and find blankets to sleep under. The couch is old and musty, but still comfortable. I soon fall asleep. I don't awaken until I hear a sharp pounding on the door. How did they find me this quickly?

Strange rage was building inside of me. I had become used to being the quiet soft spoken doctor. This anger wasn't new to me. I had felt it a lot when I was younger, but I hadn't felt it in so long that it felt strangely new. I got up off the musty couch and made my way over to the door. It didn't have a peep hole or windows for me to see who was outside. Lacking any knowledge of the person, I waited for them to knock again. Perhaps the person would just go away.

My wish did not come true when another resounding knock hit the door. Of course they knew I was home. My car was parked outside. I could kick myself for being so stupid. Dad had hidden our Jeep last time I was here, but I hadn't hid my car. Damn!

I stood leaning against the door trying to decide what to do. Should I break a window and escape through the back? Or should I open the door and blast them with fire? If I did it quick enough I could maybe get away. Maybe I should warn them. If they knew what could happen, perhaps they'd leave. Most people would rather run than get hurt. Except for John, people would run from me.

I yell loudly from behind the door, "Whoever you are, I'm coming out. If you shoot me, I'll burn you to a crisp. Don't think I won't. We're at war and I will take causalities."

I then heard the voice outside my door yell in, "Dr. Cameron, please, calm down. It's not the Shop. It's Dr. Wilson."

Wilson! What the hell was Wilson doing outside my Granther's cabin? Hadn't I scared everyone off? I had to know what was going on. What if Wilson had brought the Shop with him? No, Wilson wouldn't do that. Wilson tolerated jerks and freaks amazingly well. After all, he is House's best friend.

I finally get my nerves in order and open the door. Wilson is standing in my doorway. I can see several other people sitting in his car. It looks like Cuddy, Chase, Foreman and House. Why the hell have all these people come here? I don't see or sense anyone else around. The Shop hasn't found me yet.

"What are you doing here, Wilson?"

"We were worried about you." When he said we, Wilson gestured back towards the car.

"I'm fine. You should go. If you stay, you're only getting in deeper. Believe me; you don't want to be involved with the Shop."

Wilson nodded, "Be that as it may, Cameron, we want to help you. Please, let us help you."

House had once mentioned that Wilson had a silver tongue. He could talk anyone into a lot of things. That must be why he is the one talking to me now. They don't want to overwhelm me. They're scared of me. Why shouldn't they be? Everyone else is terrified.

Finally, I step back, "You can come in, but you can't help me. Nobody can help me."

Wilson motioned towards the car and my boss and colleagues started getting out. Wilson followed me inside as I pulled some chairs into the living room. I make sure to put my pillow in my Granther's rocking chair. That chair is mine. I don't like to share it. A moment later, Chase and Foreman walk in. They make their way into the living room and sit down in two of the kitchen chairs. I guess that they want to leave the couch and my Great-Grandmother's rocker for Wilson, House and Cuddy. Cuddy enters next. She's carrying a suitcase. It's one of mine. She must have brought me some clothes and perhaps my toothbrush. I don't say as much, but I'm grateful.

House enters last. He makes him way into the living room and sits in my Granther's rocking chair. Damn the man! Couldn't he see the pillow that made it mine? Never mind, I guess I can sit in my Great-Grandmother's chair. Wilson and Cuddy are sitting on the musty couch. Before I can say anything, House makes his comment.

"Nice house keeping skills. This place looks like hell."

"Sorry, Dr. House, but I haven't been here in over twenty years. I can't clean unless I'm here." I stand up and get water for everyone. They must be thirsty. While I'm in the kitchen, I hear House ask if I can turn up the thermostat. It's cold in here.

I walk into the kitchen and hand out drinks. I then go over and put a log in the fireplace. We don't have a thermostat here. There's no electricity." While I'm talking, the log shoots into flames. Nearly everyone jumps. Even House jumps which makes him curse because it hurts his leg. The fire soon warms up the room and everyone seems more comfortable. The silence is deafening. I decide to break it.

"What are you doing here?"

"We came to help you. The question is, how can we help you?"

I nod slightly, "There's nothing you can help me with. I'm leaving in a few days for somewhere. I haven't decided where I'm going yet."

Chase then asked the obvious, "You aren't coming back to Princeton?"

"No, I can't. The Shop will be flooding the hospital in a few days. I can't be anywhere near there. I'll probably drive across the country and disappear in California or something. I should probably leave the country."

Cuddy gave me a sympathetic smile. She might have been scared of me, but she also felt sympathy. I wasn't just a freak to her. I was an employee who was a benefit to the hospital and someone who had put up with House for over a year. I wasn't just a random security risk.

"Cameron, Orville Jamison told us about the Shop and a little about what happened to you. Was he telling the truth? Is your name really Charlene McGee?"

I nodded, "Actually, everyone called me Charlie. I never went by Charlene except when I was in trouble which was rare. And yes, I do have the ability to start fires with my mind. However, controlling this ability is often the problem. It's easy to lose control."

"How strong is this power?" Foreman was studying me with a friendly, but also scientific stare.

"Powerful enough to be a threat to national security. I can create spot heat of over 30,000°F. I once set cement blocks on fire and they exploded. However, my control has gotten better as I got older. I used to set everything on fire simply by being angry, but now I can decide what to set on fire and when. But it's like a hole in a dam. One little hole lets water out, but soon it cracks and water explodes from it. Once it's broken, it's hard to fix and hard to stop."

"How'd it start?" Wilson wasn't studying me with anything but sympathy. I think he saw my pain which I wasn't trying to show.

"My parents met in college and participated in a study at the university. This study tested a drug called Lot 6. It was supposed to be a mild hallucinogenic drug; nothing serious. However, it was anything but. It caused them to be different. My Mother could sometimes turn off the TV. without being in the room. My Father could push people into doing things and believing things. He once told a man that he was blind and the guy lost his eye sight. However, the push gave him headaches so he didn't use it very often. Then my parents got married and I was born a few years later. But I was different. Ever since my birth, I could light fires. I'm sure it was very hard on my parents to try and stop me from hurting myself and others.

"When I was around six, the Shop found me. They came looking for me at our home and found only my Mother. I was at a friend's house. They pulled out her fingernails and killed her. They then came and took me. My Father found out and chased after me. He found them after the kidnapping and freed them. He blinded one of the men and put the other in a coma using the push. We then ran for our lives. We were on the road for the next two years.

"Occasionally we'd settle down and I'd go to school, but the Shop always caught up. We ran from New York to Albany in a cab. We then hitchhiked to Hastings Glen and stayed the night in a motel. We then hitched again and made our way to Irv Manders' farm. The Shop found us and I set several of them on fire. I killed several of them and hurt the others. I also destroyed the farm house and barn. Irv gave us his Jeep and we came to stay the winter up here.

"We stayed here for that winter, but just before leaving they caught up with us. We were shot with drugs to sedate us and taken to the Shop compound. At the compound we were separated for six months. An Orderly named John Rainbird became my friend and tried to help me. My Dad later formed an escape plan and was able to smuggle me a letter. I then discovered that my friend John was actually an assassin who wanted to kill me. I had been setting fires to get things, but now I wanted to see my Father.

"Our escape attempt would have worked, but Rainbird knew about it. He snuck into the barn and was going to kill my Father and me. My Father showed up and finally was able to push Rainbird into jumping from the loft. It broke his leg, but he still had the gun. He shot my Dad, but I think my Dad also had a stroke. Half of his face was numb and slack. Rainbird then tried to shoot me, but when he did I set him on fire. It also consumed the bullet. He burned up and I was prepared to prevent this from ever happening again.

"I set the entire complex on fire and killed several people. I didn't want to kill them, but I was willing to. I escaped after I was finished. I finally made my way back to the Manders' farm. They took care of me for a while, but soon I ran away. I didn't want to hurt them. I then went to the _Rolling Stone _magazine. I told them my story and got it published. I went back to the Manders and stayed with them. At fifteen they helped me legally change my name to Allison Smith. I got the last name Cameron from my husband. I went to medical school and here I am today."

By the time I finished telling my story, everyone seemed shocked. It would have been unbelievable except for the fact that I had lit several things on fire. Silence filled the stuffy cabin. The silence began to grow uncomfortable so I stood and brought out a pitcher of water and refilled glasses. My mouth was suddenly dry. Finally, House broke the silence. However, it wasn't in a way that I would have wanted him to do.

"Your parents really screwed you up; didn't they?"

I turned around and stared at him. I knew that House didn't care what people thought of him, but that had just been cruel.

"How can you say that? My parents were wonderful people. They didn't mean to do this to me. If they had known what would happen, they would never have been in the Lot 6 experiment."

I now disliked this man as much as I care about him. A brain cancer scheme was one thing, but nobody insulted my parents.

"You didn't even know them. What right have you to judge them? At least they tried to take care of me. Neither of my parents abused me."

The words had slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I knew that his Father's abuse was a sensitive subject for House, but so were the deaths of my parents. If he couldn't handle it then he shouldn't dish it out. However, the room was silent. I saw mixed looks on the faces of the others. Some seemed to agree with me and others felt more empathy for House.

"I'm sorry." I quickly muttered. I knew it was too late, but I had to say it. "I shouldn't have said that, but it's not fair. You have no right to attack my parent's memory and I have no right to attack your parents. I'm sorry."

An uncomfortable silence had fallen on the room and I tried desperately to focus on something else. My pain over snapping at someone I cared about and talking about my parents hurt deeply. I stared at the ground and tried to disappear. A moment later I heard a cry of surprise. I looked up and saw House. House had cried out. His cane was blazing with fire. He had dropped it and I ran quickly to pull a fire extinguisher from my car. A few sprays and the flames were gone. I hadn't meant to set the fire, but it didn't matter. My emotions had started the flames.

Wilson quickly stood up, "Anyone hungry? I am. Why don't I make dinner and then we can have a nice meal and decide where to go from here?"

I turned to Wilson, "We don't have any food except what was left behind twenty years ago. You probably don't want to eat that."

Wilson nodded, "I saw a small town not far from here on the map. Why don't some of us go get groceries and then we'll have dinner? House, do you want to come?"

"Yes, cause limping around a grocery store with a damaged cane sounds like lots of fun."

"Fine, never mind. Who wants to come with me? Cameron?"

I nodded again and grabbed my purse. Cuddy muttered something to Wilson about doing damage control with House as we left. Chase hurried after us not wanting to be left behind. I think he didn't want to stay and possibly face the wrath of House and he wanted to talk to me.

The grocery store was very small and didn't have a lot of selection, but it would suffice. We split up and found different supplies for dinner. Wilson had decided on making pasta. It would be easy and quick. I was grabbing fresh vegetables for salads. Chase was finding pasta and Wilson was gathering garlic bread and ingredients for sauce.

The people at the store stood around stared at us with shifty eyes. Newcomers were never really welcome. I had never been to the store before, but my Father came here several times to get me clothes and food. We met back up and headed back to the car. I took shotgun and sat upfront. Wilson was driving and Chase was stuck in the back seat. We got back to the cabin to find Cuddy cleaning and forcing Foreman to help her. House was sitting in Granther's chair obviously not helping. He had found some of Granther's alcohol and was sipping it while watching the cleaners.

We made our way into the kitchen and began to make dinner. Chase worked on a salad while Wilson and I made the pasta. I filled a pot with water and quickly brought it to a boil. It wouldn't take the pasta long to cook. I also heated up the garlic bread. Before long we were all sitting around the kitchen table ready to enjoy a meal. Because of the lack of electricity, Cuddy had found candles and put them on the table. I had lit them and I had to admit that the warm glow of the candles would almost be romantic except for the fact that instead of a couple there were six of us.

Silence filled the air as everyone ate. The pasta was good. Cuddy, being the boss, was trying to start conversation. Foreman was trying to help her while the rest of us sat in silence. I stared out the window wishing I knew what to say. Finally, I could take it no longer and excused myself to bed. I explained that there was a couch, two beds and the rocking chairs. They could figure out sleeping arrangements, but I was taking one of the beds. Bidding everyone goodnight, I hurried down the small hallway and disappeared into my room.

Despite how bad this day had been, I was exhausted and fell quickly asleep. My dreams were again filled with thoughts of my Father and John. I think even House would be intimidated by John.

**The Kitchen**

Cuddy began to clear the table with Wilson's help until they were sure that Cameron was out of ear shot. She then muttered quietly to the other people.

"What are we going to do? I know that Cameron is a good doctor, but what if she gets upset again and catches someone on fire?"

Wilson shook his head, "She's been upset several times and has never burned anyone before. It seems to come out when she's really angry or as a self-defense mechanism. If she was going to really burn up some stranger, then she would have done it by then."

"I know, but I can't help but worry. Can you imagine how bad the malpractice suit would be if one of our doctors caught someone on fire?"

"Can we please think of Cameron before we think about the hospital? After all, Cameron's a person. The hospital is just a building."

Cuddy nodded. Chase did have a point. Cameron might be a human fire torch, but she was still human. She had feelings as much as anyone.

Foreman's eyes landed on House, "If we can talk her into coming back, will she still have her job? I know her comments were a little below the belt, but yours are always way below it."

Before House could answer, Wilson butt in, "Of course, she will. Remember how hard it was for him to choose a successor when she quit?"

They stood arguing and trying to figure out a solution to Cameron's predicament for several more hours. Finally, Cuddy suggested they sleep on it and went to find a place to sleep.

Wilson took the couch while Cuddy found room in Cameron's room. House called the back bed to himself leaving Chase and Foreman the rocking chairs. It wasn't the most comfortable spot, but it would do.

About three in the morning, House woke up. His leg was hurting more than usual. Probably the long drive and subsequent activities had caused it. He carefully got out of bed and took some Vicodin. He then made his way outside to the outhouse that Cameron had mentioned. It was chilly and House was glad when he was finished. Getting out of the outhouse, he looked up to see Cameron sitting outside on the porch. Despite the fact that she was close by, her eyes seemed to be very far from the present. He wondered what could be messing with her now.

Insatiable curiosity filled into limping over and sitting beside her. His approach did nothing to break Cameron's trance. When House saw her face more clearly he noticed tears streaks pouring down her face. She had been and was crying. Damn! He didn't like being anyone's should to cry on. He was surprised as Cameron's voice broke his silent thought.

"If you're going to fight with me about my parent's ability to raise me, please just go back to bed. I'm in no mood to fight or argue."

House sighed. If their earlier spat was causing her tears, he would probably just go back to bed. He had no time to deal with people who just couldn't let go. Suddenly, Cameron seemed to come out of her reverie again.

"I wish you could've met John Rainbird, the man who betrayed me. He scared people shitless, but I have a feeling that you would annoy him to death. Either that or he'd scare you to death. The man had no real feelings in my opinion. He said that he loved me, but I think he loved the idea of killing me. I know you have emotions. You love Stacey. You know, I was really scared when Tritter was investigating you."

House didn't look very surprised, "You were scared that I'd go to jail and then you'd have no eye candy. Though it does seem that Chase has taken my place somewhat."

Cameron shook her head, "I wasn't scared for you. I was scared for me. Despite the name change, if he dug hard enough, Tritter could have found out about Charlie. I was actually relieved that he wanted to talk about my husband rather than anything else."

House now did look surprised. Cameron was actually being selfish in her own way. She was scared of her secrets being found out.

"I know you think that I'm being selfish, but I can't help it. You do know what it's like to be different, but not different like I am. You deal with pain everyday and I deal with a frightening power that I don't want. Unlikely as it seems, I'd trade you any day. I'd rather be in constant pain than have this power."

"You'd rather be in constant pain and addicted to pain killers than have a power that can be kept inside?"

"How could I not? This power while somewhat controllable has given me nothing but pain; both physical and emotional. I lost my Father and have set my own skin on fire before. I'd rather give it up. Even today, I'm still on the run from the Shop and they don't want to test me. They want to kill me. I'm too dangerous to be left alive. Does that make it easier to understand?"

House looked down at his feet. He and Cameron did have some similarities. Both had a problem that hurt them. Both felt the pain of betrayal. She obviously did understand his pain. Probably more than any other person did.

Beside him, Cameron suddenly stood up. She spoke so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"I need to move my car and Wilson's. If anyone comes up this way, I don't them thinking that someone has broken into this cabin. That would only make things worse. Can you drive Wilson's car?"

House nodded and rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a spare key to Wilson's car. He followed her out towards the cars. She had him follow her to a spot where she had probably once hid their jeep. Finally, both cars were safely hidden. Cameron turned around and looked at him.

Without a word, Cameron suddenly threw her arms around House. It was a tight hug which House hadn't expected. He didn't move for a split second and then he felt Cameron pull him around. What the hell was she trying to do? His horror was realized when he heard not a moment later the sound of a gun firing. Cameron's slight precognition had reared its head. House felt Cameron fall against him as blood ran down her back.

Yelling at the top of his lungs, House tried to summon any of the doctors inside. He quickly felt for her pulse. It was there, but already thready. A moment later the door flew open and Wilson came sprinting out followed quickly by Chase and Foreman. Cuddy hurried out last. House was finding out if the bullet had gone right through or if it was still inside.

All five doctors were so busy trying to help their fallen comrade that none of them noticed the armed man approach. His face was young and smooth. He couldn't have been much older than Cameron or Chase. He held a 9mm Glock aimed at them. His voice was soft, but held a chilling tone in it.

"Get away from her now."

Everyone suddenly glanced up. Unfortunately none of them had thought to bring a weapon besides House's cane, but little good that would against a gun. At hearing his words, House put a protective hand on Cameron's arm. He could see Chase and Foreman doing the same. Cuddy and Wilson had stood up and were trying to stand between the young assassin and their comrades. The man gave them a small cruel smile and laughed.

"You think your pathetic attempt to protect her will stop me. I'm supposed to kill her and I can kill you all too if I must. Stand aside."

"You must think we're stupid. We aren't going to let you hurt her. Not without a fight that is." Wilson held his chin up higher than normal. Everyone could hear the fear in his voice, but that didn't stop him from standing his ground.

The man aimed his gun at Wilson; right against his chest. A voice then rose above all the others. It was weak and failing, but still there.

"Dr. Wilson, please stand aside. I'll go with you. Just don't hurt them."

Cameron had struggled to her feet. She looked dizzy and lost, but still sure of herself.

Chase looked terrified, "Allison, please, they're going to kill you."

"I know. I'm not afraid."

"Good, now get in the car." The man pointed at a small black four door Sedan. She made her way towards it looking unsettled. Opening the back door, Cameron climbed into the car. She looked back at her friends and gave them not a word but rather a look. The look on her face was clearer than any of her words could have been. It said, "Get away while you still can." The assassin shut the door of the Sedan and turned toward the other doctors.

"If you know what's good for you, you will forget about this and her. She is dead to you now."

"You except us to just forget our friend. You're crazy." Chase blurted out. His mouth was obviously ahead of his brain. He seemed to have forgotten who had a gun and who did not.

"If you try anything to interrupt the Shop, you'll regret it." The man turned back towards his Sedan which was holding Cameron.

"Oh, we'll regret it. Is that the best you can come up with? I always pictured you Secret Agent guys as being better at threatening people. Jeez, I think I'm more scared of those the Men in Black from that movie." House sneered at them. He seemed more angry than sarcastic though.

The assassin looked as if he wanted to retort, but his self-control was better than most and he held it in check. He opened the door of the Sedan and climbed inside. The car then took off and disappeared into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

_Here's Chapter 4. A big thanks to Lockieness, SunrunnersFirebird, Heyabbott, and ReganX for the reviews. _

_ReganX: It's true she is slightly underestimating herself, but that's not going to last. Despite her extremely great powers, she still lacks the finite contol it. Thank you so much for your review. I went back to the rest of the story and made her even more powerful. Hope you enjoy the rest of this._

**The Shop**

I sat in the Sedan looking out at my friends. The gun shot in my back isn't too bad. It hurts, but I have a feeling that it isn't doing much damage. As much as the Shop wants to kill me, I'm still a puzzle that they want to solve. The most important question still is, "If I have children, can I pass the mutation on to them?" I doubt they are going to let me live long enough to have any children, but probably long enough to take blood and other samples.

I'm honestly not sure if I care anymore. I ran from the hospital trying to escape the Shop, but I'm really tired of running. It's been so long since I last tried to escape that I'm not used to it. I'm tired of running. If I can't live a normal life, I'd rather not live at all.

The man who shot me drives in silence. He looks back at me maybe once or twice. I've never seen this man before. I guess that most of the people who were involved in the last experiments are probably all dead or unwilling to come after me again.

My mind suddenly comes across a plan. I know that if I try to escape, the Shop will kill my friends. They'll kill all of them. I'm going to have to destroy this place again. I'm going to have to take the place down. Nobody could survive this time. Not even me. I was going to have to go down with the Shop. If I didn't then this would never end. There would always be a new Shop to come and find me. I felt a single tear fall down my face. This was not how I wanted to die, but as my Father used to say, "Life isn't fair."

The man up front didn't speak to me. He was calm around me; as calm as John had been. I briefly wondered it he was scared of me. He might not be, but some people could hide their fear better than others. This man might be one of those people.

"Why aren't you trying to restrain me?"

The man upfront laughed at my question. "Would it make any difference if I did? You don't need your hands to start fires. Restraining you would probably just make you fight back. You'd melt any restraints and then you'd be even angrier."

"What's to stop me from killing you right here and bolting?"

"Easy, I'm not the only Shop agent around here. I know that another person is watching your friends right now. If I am killed they'll know and they'll kill your friends. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"

I glared daggers at him. I wanted desperately to hit the man. I wanted him dead. Suddenly, I smelled smoke. I had set the seat beside me on fire. My driver reached forward and pulled out a fire extinguisher. He gave it to me and I quickly doused the fire. We rode in silence for over three hours. I was beginning to think that'd we never stop driving. Despite the bad fate that awaited me, I was bored and ready to get this over with. I just wish that I had gotten to thank Chase, Foreman and House for everything. I was going to miss them more than anything.

As the hours passed, I noticed that the bleeding in my back had stopped. I felt calm and guess that the gun shot had actually been a very light form of tranquilizer. The Shop still thought that any kind of sedative would stop me. Unless I'm completely unconscious I'm still dangerous.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the car stopped and the driver opened my car and helped me out. He went from shooting me to being a gentleman; so two faced. He was just like John except I knew he was bad. It was a new compound, but despite their best efforts there were still things that I could burn. After all, I can burn almost anything.

My driver, whose name I had never asked, walked up the front lawn with me to a small complex of buildings. He walked me into the first one. It was a building filled mostly with asbestos covered walls and furniture. They were trying not to take any chances. We walk down the hall and turn a corner. There is a door in the new corridor. We go through it and I find myself in a room filled with people. They are people I don't know, but I can tell that they are the ones who want me dead.

A woman with dark hair she got from a bad dye job stands up and gestures for me to sit down. My driver takes his seat at the table. I sit down and the woman gives me a smile that looks like it was plastered on.

"Welcome, Miss. McGee. Can I call you Charlie or Charlene maybe?"

I give her an equally unpleasant smile that would have shocked the woman that is Allison Cameron, but isn't that strange for Charlie McGee. "Charlie is fine."

"Wonderful, Charlie, I'm sure you know why you're here."

"Well, I'm guessing it's not because you want to give me a plaque for being the only person to destroy an entire Shop compound. I guess it must be because I'm a threat to national security; especially since 9/11."

The woman with the bad dye job did not look impressed with my sarcasm. Apparently, House is rubbing off on me. I look up at the woman and the other people sitting at the table. I don't know any of them. I don't know what their lives are like outside this place, but I already hate them. What right have they to control me? I should not have to suffer for the sins of my parents or the sins of the Shop.

"Charlie." The woman is talking to me again. "If you'll cooperate with us, we'll have no reason to hurt your friends."

"But you have every reason to hurt me? What have I ever done to you? Tell me that. Everything I did those years ago wasn't my fault. I didn't ask to be given this power. Those people who got hurt, it was their own damn fault! Not mine!!"

I had stood up during my little rant and everyone at the table looked terrified except for my driver and the woman with the bad dye job.

"Charlie, please sit down. Look, I don't want to do this any more than you do, but we're doing this for the good of the American people."

"What about me? Huh? I'm an American too. I was born in this country. I pay my taxes. I'm a doctor no pity's sake. I help people, not hurt them."

"Charlie, please calm down."

"No, I don't want to calm down. Why don't you just get it over with? Shoot me, Dammit!"

"Charlie, we need some answers before we do anything. Have you been outside the country in the last seven years?"

"No, why?!"

"We have some inside information that there is a terrorist plot being raised against the United States. We were told that it would end with an unstoppable fire. You, Charlie, are the only person with the ability to create an unstoppable fire."

"So you think that because I can do something, that I'm going to do so." I was now stammering with fury. "All of you who are parents have the ability to kill your children. Does that mean that you have all done so? No!! Just because someone can do something doesn't mean they will. I haven't made any horribly destructive fires since the last Shop incident."

Before I could stop it, the power leapt from me and consumed the table along with all the papers on it. Immediately, the overhead sprinklers came on, but the fire was strong. It would take awhile for the flames to be subsided. This fire had been a complete accident and no one had gotten hurt, but nobody in the room seemed to care. They were staring at me as if I was some horrible criminal guilty of crimes against humanity.

Finally, the flames were calmed down and put out. All of their papers and files on me were completely toast. I had effectively destroyed them.

The woman gave me her plastic smile again and turned toward my driver, "Please take, Miss McGee to her cell." He nodded and stood up. Taking my arm, he led me out of the conference room and down to a small room. The apartment I had stayed in during my first stay with the shop had been nice. This room was not. I was tiny. It held a dingy cot, a toilet and a wash basin. That was it. Not even a blanket was in the room. I guess they believed that I was capable of keeping myself warm. I was, but blankets were more convenient. My driver left me sitting on the cot and walked off. Dinner was never brought to me and I wondered if I'd even be given a last meal.

Tears stung my eyes. I was going to die. It didn't matter how good my argument was, they had no plan on letting me live. If only I would kill them before I died too. I had to keep my friends safe. I briefly wondered what they were doing. Where they still at Granther's cabin? Had they gone back to the PPTH? Were they trying to help me or had they forgotten about me and moved on? I lay back on the cot and closed my eyes.

Sleep claimed me not long later, but it was far from restful. My dreams were still plagued with visions of John Rainbird and my Father. My Father was angry with me for changing my name and still getting caught. Rainbird was getting ready to see me in hell. My driver then came into the dream. He was staring down at me the Rainbird had. I was just a powerful weapon to him. I wasn't human to him.

I awoke the next morning to a rapping noise on the door. A minute later the door opened. Apparently the knocking was just a formality. My driver stood there ready to escort me out to where ever I was going.

"Do you really think I'll go down without a fight? Do you want to die?"

He laughed at my words, "I'm not going to die. You are a lot more confidant than you are powerful. Just wait and see what's going on."

We walked down the hallway and came to another door. It was not the same one from last night. Alright technically, it wasn't last night but earlier in the morning. Now it probably the early evening. My talk with House seemed an eternity ago. Inside the room was a chair; just a chair and nothing else. My driver sat me down in the chair and gave me an injection of something. I'm pretty sure it was sodium pentothal, truth serum. He then walked over to a one way mirror and nodded.

"Charlie, we were talking about a terrorist plot last night weren't we?"

I nodded slowly. My brain was hurting from the lack of food and the drug in my system. I knew what he was planning, but I wasn't sure what to do. I'd never been interrogated like this.

"Look Charlie, I don't want to hurt you. That wouldn't bring me any pleasure. Just give me the answers I'm looking for and I won't have to harm you."

My head still hurt, but I managed to give him an angry look and spat, "Go to Hell!"

He shook his head and walked away for a minute. I tried to stay calm and stay focused. I was probably going to need all my strength to survive. He walked back towards me and leaned in close to me.

"Charlie, this is you last chance. Don't make me hurt you."

I leaned forward and spat in his face. He didn't even flinch, but I didn't care. He easily wiped the saliva from his face and gave me a resounding slap across my face. It caused my lip to split and my ears to ring. I gave a small yelp and tried to stand up. I had almost gotten to my feet when he pushed me back down. I landed in the chair which he promptly turned over. I fell to the ground and gave another yelp as he kicked me in the ribs. I curled up trying to protect myself and keep my head covered.

He stopped after a moment and knelt down beside me, "Charlie, are you a member of this terrorist group?"

"No!" I managed to choke out.

He stood back up and kicked me again. What the hell? I told him the truth and I still got hurt. Then I remembered what he had said, "Give me the answers I'm looking for and I won't have to harm you." He didn't want the truth. He wanted to hear that I was a member of the terrorist group. The Shop needed to a reason to kill me and if I admitted to being a terrorist, they could kill me with fewer questions asked.

My driver came around and grabbed my shirt collar. He hoisted me up and stared me in the eyes. "Are you a member of the terrorist group?"

"No, I'm not a member."

He punched me hard and I hit the ground. I wasn't planning on resisting. He watched cruelly as I writhed on the ground. Pain was overloading my senses and I was having trouble concentrating. If this was anything like the pain House felt, well, I'd still trade my powers for his pain. Then the guy landed on me. He was staring down at me, like a predator catching its prey. He leaned down close and gave me a cruel smile.

"Charlie, if you won't give me the answer I want then I'll take something else from you. Just give me the answer and I'll let you alone."

I felt his hand on my stomach. I would allow him to beat me and starve me, but rape was not in that deal. The people behind the mirror were watching; probably expecting me to give in and say that I was a terrorist. They thought I was a scared, hurt and virtually a broken person. I was scared and hurt, but I was far from broken. I had been through worse. I had watched a man I had trusted kill my Father. I had set a fire so huge that almost nothing could stop it and I had spilled my guts to _Rolling Stone_ magazine. I had been through far worse.

I focused hard and concentrated hard on the man who was groping me. His hands were in places only those I cared about got to go. His eyes were blazing like an inferno into mine. Perhaps, I had better help his eyes blaze. A second before anything worse could come of those hands, they were gone. His hands were gripping his face. They were covering his eyes and he was screaming. Spot heat of several hundred degrees had melted his eyes; actually melted them. I quickly stood and stared at him. His clothes became one huge fire. They burned and I could smell the burning flesh. He had backed away from me screaming. I stood up and turned the power on the two-way mirror. I hit it hard and the heat broke the glass. I could see the people behind it. I gave them a surprisingly evil smile and spoke in a voice cold and cryptic,

"Sorry, but he's no John Rainbird."

None of them spoke. Fear was radiating around them, but I didn't turn my power on them. My show of power on the driver was enough to frighten them.


	5. Chapter 5

That night I lay sore on my cot. No dinner again tonight as if starvation would stop my powers. It only makes them harder to control. The driver is in the hospital ICU. Despite what he was doing, I feel guilty. I'm a doctor and all though I do have the right to do harm to defend myself; I had no right to feel pleasure in it. But I had felt pleasure in using the fire and using it on him had felt even better. What kind of doctor am I that I can take pleasure in hurting someone?

Around one in the morning, I sat up from my cot. It's uncomfortable, but that's not why I'm getting up. I'm going to pretend my escape tonight, but I don't plan to leave anyone alive; not even myself. I walk up to the door quickly. I know that there are security cameras on me at all times, but maybe I can be fast. Concentrating, I focus on the lock. I create as much spot heat as possible. It doesn't take long at all to destroy the lock. My door pops open and I'm able to slip outside and into the hallway. I hurry along the hallway knowing that an alarm has probably already been sounded. Good, I want as many people outside as possible.

I follow my senses and make my way towards the exit. I must have fairly good senses because I soon find an exit. I need a pass code, but instead I melt that lock too. I can hear people rushing toward the exits. The prisoner has escaped and must be killed on sight before she can kill everyone else. I imagine that is how they view me. I smile knowingly. I'm about to find out how much power I really have deep down inside. I'm going to be a true Firestarter.

Escaping wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be. Maybe it's because I'm not really trying to get away. I'm just trying to get outside. Outside the fun can begin. I soon step out onto the grounds of the Shop's headquarters. The night is cool, but not for long. Let the heat begin!

I set myself up behind a tree. It was an old spruce that towered above me. I was also large enough to shield me completely from view. That way I can't be shot from a distance. I hear people spilling out onto the grounds. Just like twenty years ago, they are all armed with different types of guns; all intent on being the one to stop me. A leader is telling them to circle around; trap me inside. This is exactly what I want, but they don't know this. I wait patiently. After all, I've worked with Dr. House for over a year, I know how to be patient.

Finally, I'm ready. The woman, with the dyed hair, is making her way across the lawn. She is wearing an unbelievably ugly red business suit. The top and bottom aren't the same color and it's not flattering. However, I'm glad to see it. The suit is probably very flammable. She steps up and gives me that horrible smile of hers.

"Charlie, please calm down just for a moment. I need for you to hear a deal I'm going to make with you."

I really don't want to listen, but my gut tells me to. "Fine talk, but be quick."

She nodded and continued, "I knew you were upset about today, but I brought something to cheer you up." She stepped aside to reveal House. He looked calm despite all the guns. I doubt he was even scared at all.

"Actually, they were after Cuddy, but cripples are easier to catch." There was House again with his mouth. Honestly, he probably thought up the worst things to say in every situation and then said them very loud. However, despite that I was comforted by his presence. It was strangely comforting.

"Now, Charlie, here's the deal. If you surrender here and now, we'll let your friend live. If you don't, we'll kill him or you will accidentally. Think, Charlie, he's not that old. He could live many more years. Would you want to be the cause of his death?"

I looked at my feet. No, I didn't want to cause House's death. I finally looked them in the eye and shook my head.

"Let him go. I surrender." I quietly raised my hands over my head in a sign of submission. Then a sound reached my ears that made me feel surprise. It was the honk of a car horn. To be exact, it was Wilson's car horn. I could see Wilson, Cuddy, Chase and Foreman all getting out of the car. Wilson had walked towards the fence, but didn't touch it. Chase was holding up a cell phone camera taking pictures. Foreman was over at the fence lock trying to pick it. Normally, any of the guards would have gone over to stop them, but all were concentrating on me. They were like antelope and I was the lion. They feared being separated from the pack because the pack meant safety. Isolation meant death.

House shouted loudly across the lawn, "Hurry up, Jimmy. My leg's hurting." He then looked at Foreman. "I knew hiring a doctor with a juvenile record was a good idea. I just knew I'd need him to break into top secret government facilities to save me and my piece of lobby artwork."

I glared at him. What a time to talk about why he hired us. However, all eyes had turned to him and I took my chance. A whip of fire flew from my body and knocked aside several of the guards who were now screaming in terror and agony. That single spurt of fire had caused mass chaos. People realized that I was through playing games. I meant business this time. The tight circle around me had turned into a panicked mêlée of people. My safety tree instantly burst into flame. Every inch of the huge spruce was on fire in less than a second. The guards holding House felt their skin, hair, and clothes begin to combust.

As people ran, House pulled the ID card off one of the guards. He hobbled over and was able to slip it to Foreman. Within minutes my friends were through the door, but I was already started. There was no turning back now.

I dug down deep and pulled out power from inside. It flashed out and the grass began to burn quickly in huge strips. The headquarters was smoking. Bright blue flames were causing its metal to start twisting and groaning. No place was made to withstand this much heat. The air itself was burning my throat. The burning tree fell at my feet and shook the ground with its weight. Sparks leapt from it and touched my face. I barely noticed the pain. I wasn't trying to keep it in check anymore. I was trying to use it; to wield it.

I was dishing the power out left and right. Things that took more than a simple fire to burn were beginning to combust. As my friends drew closer, I heard an explosion. It came from behind the fence. Wilson's car went sky high and I heard him moan over the screams of people trying to escape. Just being in this situation had made my Father's death and John's betrayal sharp pain in my soul again. The fire soothed that pain. I stopped people from leaving at the gate by creating a fire around the exit. A circle of fire had stopped people from leaving. Nobody was trying to shoot me. They were just trying to escape alive and I wasn't going to allow that to happen.

The woman, with dyed hair and the ugly business suit, was running for perhaps another back gait. I watched as she ran. I sent a trail of fire at her and allowed it to surround her. She now stood inside my ring of fire, but not for long. Suddenly, the flames condensed around her and she was finished. Since the last time I destroyed the Shop, my powers had increased. I was no longer a little girl trying to understand something impossible to know. I was a woman using the gift that I didn't fully understand, but was willing to take advantage of.

I heard the building groan again before an explosion rocked the ground. The building had collapsed. The heat had grown so intense that the metal itself had evaporated. Well, that meant my driver was probably dead. Good riddance.

Everyone had to die. I had to stop this from happening again. Never again would the Shop turn a person's life into hell. I would stop that from happening once and for all. I turned and continued my reign of fire at the next person who was yet unscathed. This had to end once and for all.

**Her name is Charlie**

Watching Cameron burn this place to the ground was sending chills up House's back. He didn't wonder why she was an atheist anymore. Cameron was practically a demigod herself. She had started as a nice piece of art for the lobby, but this wasn't the Cameron he knew; the Cameron he had hired as an immunologist. Had she been hiding this anger and power all the time she had worked for him? He was mildly surprised that she hadn't burned him to a crisp after their horrible date.

He watched as the fire consumed the woman in the ugly red suit. Despite his ill attitude, House would never wish this death on anyone, but Cameron was an unstoppable force. He watched as she turned and began to focus on the next person. That was when House felt his heart stop for a second.

Cameron obviously was so intent on her plan that she didn't realize who she was fighting now. The fire whip sprung out again, but not at a Shop employee. This time it was aimed at Foreman. Maybe a part of her recognized him because the whip missed him, but only by an inch. A few spark touched his skin, but nothing that wasn't easy to heal. Foreman cried out for Cameron to stop, but she didn't hear him. She seemed to no longer recognize anyone.

House realized that if she didn't stop this soon. They were all going to die. Not just the Shop, but Cuddy, Wilson, Foreman, Chase and himself; not to mention Cameron. Wilson hurried over to him.

"We've got to get out of here."

"We can't leave. We have to stop her. If we don't, she'll kill everyone."

"I know, but how do we do it?"

"Cameron's a doctor. We've got to remind her of that; the Hippocratic Oath. It may be our only hope."

"She doesn't appear to care about that oath anymore."

"I know she still does. Cameron might have been hiding this all these years, but the overly kind and sweet Cameron was real. She really had trouble bring bad news to patients and she has great bedside manner. We've got to remind her that she isn't just a killer. She's a doctor and a friend."

The word friend came out of House's mouth carefully. He had never called his ducklings friends before. Cameron was not his lover or a potential lover, but she was his friend. He had to save her.

Wilson took House's idea and tried to run with it. He shouted above the screams and people trying to escape towards her.

"Dr. Cameron, please you have to stop this. Stop, Cameron, please. You must!"

Chase, Cuddy and Foreman could hear Wilson and began to try and remind Cameron of their presence. House heard Foreman yell to her.

"Allison, can you hear me? It's Eric, your friend. You've got to stop. Please stop while you can."

Chase and Cuddy's cries were pretty much the same. Chase was trying to remind her of their friendship, their physical relationship and his feelings for her. Cuddy was offering to help her with anything, but she had to stop. Wilson had stopped his earlier cry, but was still trying.

"Allison, please, you're a doctor. Don't you remember the oath you took? You promised to Do No Harm. Allison, please stop this."

House watched as nothing could get through her. Cameron's eyes were blind to them. Suddenly, it occurred to him. She wasn't responding to them because she didn't recognize them. If she didn't recognize them, then she wasn't in her right mind. And since her fifteenth birthday, her right mind had been Allison Cameron. That was it. She wasn't Allison Cameron anymore. She was Charlie McGee.

Without warning, House got as close as he could to her. He yelled above Wilson, Cuddy, Chase and Foreman. But he wasn't yelling at her doctor side. He was yelling at the former Firestarting child who had lost her Father. The child who had been betrayed. The child who had once destroyed the Shop before, but had stopped and left survivors. He was yelling at Charlie McGee.

"Charlie, stop this. Please, Charlie, stop while you can. Charlie, can you hear me? Charlie, you're not a true killer. Yes, you are in a war, but the battle is over. You've won. Charlie, you don't like to hurt people. That's not you. Please, Charlie, stop!! Stop while you still can!!"


	6. Chapter 6

_Here's the last chapter. Thank you so so much to my reviewers. I really appreciate your thoughts on the story. The endings a little cheesy, but I think after all the hell that Charlie McGee has been through that she deserves a happy ending. _

**My Name is Charlie and the War is Over**

I could hear people screaming things. Mostly just begging and pleadings for help. People trying to escape, but failing to do so. I can hear several voices calling to someone called Allison. Who is Allison? Could she have been the woman in the ugly red suit?

If they are friends of Allison, then I have to stop them too. I turn towards the people. I can see them and feel a deep hatred for them. They deserve to die and so do I. The power is about to leave me when I hear another voice, but this one is loud and calmer. The man has a cane and is limping, but I hear his voice clearly. He isn't talking to Allison. He is talking to me. He is talking to Charlie.

"Charlie, stop this. Please, Charlie, stop while you can. Charlie, can you hear me? Charlie, you're not a true killer. Yes, you are in a war, but the battle is over. You've won. Charlie, you don't like to hurt people. That's not you. Please Charlie, stop!! Stop while you still can!!"

Those last words echo in my head. I've heard them before. My Father's voice in my head twenty years ago said that after I first destroyed the Shop. He told me to stop. Maybe this is my Father telling me to stop again. I have to stop, but first I must finish what I started.

I start to reign in the power, but instead of dispelling it I pull it inwards. My body temperature is rising quickly. I'm burning up. Just like I planed. I feel a hand on mine. It's the hand of the man with the cane. He lets go quickly. My skin is too hot to touch. I'm going to die very soon. I'm destroying myself. If the Shop's favorite person to follow is dead, how can they hurt me now? I will finally be at peace.

I fall to the ground and a face covers mine. It's a man's face and he is talking to me. He and the man with the cane are talking also. The man, his face is caring. Caring like the face of my Father. This man reminds me of my Father. I hear his voice.

"Charlie, stop. Let the power go. Please, stop. You have to keep living. Don't die; not now."

I close my eyes. The pain is suddenly gone. I'm sitting surrounded by white light. I see a man and a woman; my parents. My Father comes over and gives me a hug. My Mother follows his lead. She smiles at me and touches my face. Her voice whispers, "Not now, Charlie. Not now."

My Father takes my hand. His voice is equally soft and it brings tears to my eyes, "Charlie, stop this. Go back and let the power go. There's no water so you're going to have to let it out. Find a source if you can, but let it go Charlie. Charlie, we love you and we will see you later, but not now. Go back and live. We are so proud of you. I love you, Charlie."

"I love you, Daddy. I love you, Mommy." My Father's last words of, "I love you, Charlie" were the words that he hadn't finished twenty years ago. My parents wanted me to stop. They wanted me to live. So I would. I would live.

Pain was the first sensation I felt; an overwhelming sensation of pain. I forced myself to sit up and expel that last bit of power. It went away from my friends and spread out. I reigned it in again, but not towards myself. I aimed it towards the clouds. The clouds that were filled with water were my only hope. Finally, the power receded. I felt drained and empty. My eyes grew heavy and I collapsed. I was unaware of the people standing around me now. I was unaware of the fingers on my pulse and of the person calling 911. As I felt the power dissipate, black darkness covered my eyes and I muttered, "For you, Daddy." Then I knew nothing.

**The Hospital**

An ambulance, several fire trucks and the police soon arrived at the scene. House and his remaining ducklings had stabilized Cameron as best they could. Without medical equipment this wasn't easy. They had gotten as far from the fire as possible, but that was next to impossible. However, Cameron's condition was going to be hard to explain to the police. The heat and flames had been completely internal. Her outer flesh was totally unscarred.

The police were running around asking questions while the ambulance arrived and took Cameron and House back to the nearest hospital. The police would take care of the rest of the doctors considering Wilson's car was completely destroyed. Explaining what had happened was going to be hard because nobody was going to believe that a young woman could set an entire area on fire.

Cuddy was talking to the police; probably getting ready to again commit perjury. She finally stopped and walked back over to Chase, Foreman and Wilson.

"I told them that we're doctors and we arrived after the fire started. Cameron was hurt trying to help people. I mentioned that we had no idea how the fire was started."

Wilson nodded, "We need to get to the hospital and find out what's going on with Cameron. Maybe by the time we get there House will know something."

A police officer, not busy trying to find survivors or find out what happened, drove them to the closest hospital. The Shop headquarters was actually rather far from the hospital; almost an hour away. Hurrying inside, Foreman followed the signs straight to the ER. The others hurried on behind him. Reaching the ER, Foreman immediately inquired about Allison Cameron. After a minute of arguing his knowledge of Cameron, the ER receptionist pointed him to a private waiting room. Upon entering the room, they found a very grumpy House sitting reading an _Entertainment Weekly_.

"House, how is she?"

"I hear she's up and dancing."

Cuddy gave him a sharp look, "Really, House?" She didn't sound like she believed him at all.

"I haven't heard anything yet. She's still in the ER. She probably burned several of her organs. She might need a transplant."

Chase sat down next to Foreman and put his feet up on the table. Cameron had wanted the sex to be no strings attached, but it hadn't been that way for him. If she died, he wasn't sure what would happen. This emotionless sex turned into something more. For him maybe, but for her, Chase had no idea. Well he knew one thing; if Cameron needed a transplant he'd give her a lung or a kidney. Anything he had two of she could have one of. Hell, he'd give her anything he could.

Hours passed without a word. No doctors came with news; neither good nor bad. Whoever said that no news is good news was a damn fool in Foreman's opinion. Waiting was driving him crazy. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, but was really only about six hours, an ER doctor came into the room looking for Allison Cameron's family.

Wilson stepped forward and intercepted the doctor, "She doesn't have any family. They're all dead. We're her family."

The man nodded, "Alright, Miss Cameron had significant damage to her several of her internal organs. Most of them suffered from burns and she also had quite a bit of smoke inhalation. We had to remove one of her kidneys. It was completely destroyed. The other was repairable. We were able to repair quite a bit of the damage to her liver, pancreas, and other internal organs. However, her lungs suffered permanent damage, but I don't think she'll need any transplants. She's going to have asthma and trouble inhaling enough oxygen for most of her life. We're going to put her on medication for the damage to her heart. Her recovery time is going to be considerable. I know that you'll want to transfer her to the PPTH and that's fine. I don't want her moved for at least a week."

"Can we see her?" Cuddy proposed the question everyone was thinking.

"Yes, you can. She looks pretty bad. Looks like someone beat the shit out of her and she's on a ventilator to give her lungs a break. We're also giving her dialysis to give her kidney a break."

They followed the doctor into a small hospital room. Familiar beeping machines filled the space and Allison Cameron lay on the bed surrounded by all the machines. She looked so small lying there. Only hours earlier she had seemed so larger than life, but now she looked as innocent as they had once thought her. She was asleep and looked completely calm.

"So what do we do now?" Chase looked unsure of what to do. He felt tears stinging his eyes. He wanted to cry and tell Cameron he loved her again. Cameron looked so helpless despite her great power.

"We wait for her to wake up. That's all we can do." Wilson took a seat while House and Foreman took turns reading her chart at the end of the bed. The damage was extensive and she had done it all to herself. Even most suicides didn't suffer this much physical damage. As the time passed, each doctor took turns staying while others left to eat, stretch, and take bathroom breaks.

House sat and stared down at him immunologist. He remembered telling her why he had hired her. He had said that gorgeous women did not go to medical school unless they are as damaged as they are beautiful. He had also said that she was damaged and ended it with a question. Was she damaged? Yes, Cameron was damaged. More than any other person he knew. It proved his theory. Everybody's damaged. He was right.

He started drifting off to sleep when a stir of movement caught his eye. Cameron was raising her arm up. She had finally woken up. Her eyes looked lost, but somewhat coherent. House wasn't sure if she remembered much of what had happened. If she had burned her internal organs, then it was possible that she had burned part of her brain as well. She shifted her gaze around careful of the tube down her throat. Finally her eyes met his. She gave a soft smile and tried to speak. It came out sounding like a bunch of grunts. He stood up, leaned on his cane and spoke calmly toward her.

"You know what a breathing tube does. Don't try to speak. If you need to say anything, write it down."

He handed her a sheet of paper and a pen. She weakly wrote, _Where am I?_

"You're in a hospital in Vermont."

_Did I stop the Shop?_

"Yeah, you did. You messed that place and those people up pretty good."

Cameron started to write something, but while writing she drifted off to sleep. House took the paper and examined what she had been writing. It read: _Am I going to make…_

She wanted to know if she was going to make it. Was she going to live? He nodded and put the paper beside her bed along with the pen.

A week later, Cameron was transferred to the PPTH. She had her own room due to her condition, position in the hospital and the occasional spurt of fire she couldn't stop. The spurts of fire tended to happen while she slept. Nightmares tended to cause them. However, as time continued the little jets of fire seemed to be getting less and less.

A physical therapist helped her with returning to normal activities despite her new lung problems. The doctor who had diagnosed her hadn't been kidding. Cameron's lungs were spent. She had trouble walking and breathing at the same time. The physical therapy alone exhausted her. Her heart rate would be almost double that of a normal person and her lungs heaved. She had an inhaler and took several medications for her heart. The risk of heart disease had probably doubled with her little fire stunt. Recovery was going to take some time.

**A Whole New Life**

Six weeks had passed since my destruction of the Shop. I was released from the hospital two weeks ago and I'm at home now. I still have physical therapy, but I'm getting better. I have to walk slowly and take deep breaths, but besides that I seem to be functioning rather normally. Thankfully, I suffered no brain damage. That would have been worse than being killed by the Shop.

It seems that the government isn't asking too many questions about what happened. They aren't asking because despite my powers, almost all of my civil liberites have been violated. I may be an unstoppable force, but I'm still an American citizen. It seems that the government has swept the incident under the rug as an accidental fire. Nobody's fault and nobody's to blame.

It's been six weeks since I saw OJ in the hospital. Six weeks since everyone I cared about found out about my power. Six weeks since I scared the living shit out of everyone. I can now sleep through the night without any fires most of the time. Actually, I'm not supposed to set any fires for a long time. Cuddy became my official doctor when I was transferred to PPTH. Not setting fires was her first order as my doctor. She's a good doctor, but House, Chase and Foreman keep trying to butt in on my treatment.

Chase has been avoiding me since the incident. I'm not sure what he thinks about the whole thing. I know that he had developed feelings for me, but I was scared that the recent events had lost him totally as my friend.

I apologized to Foreman for flicking him with sparks and trying to hit him with the fire whip. I didn't even remember doing it, but I don't remember doing everything everyone said I did. Foreman didn't seem disturbed by my behavior. He commented that when the time was right, he'd be happy to work with me again. Could I possibly have a job when my recovery is over?

My relationship with House has changed also. He's still a jerk, but I value our new friendship. It's a friendship that is still in the building blocks of life, but I feel that it's going somewhere. Perhaps, it's our mutual pain that brings us together or maybe our painful pasts that gives us a bond. But it doesn't really matter why. What does matter is that we have a friendship in the making. However, I must make perfectly clear that while we have a new friendship, we are not lovers. I don't know if I love him anymore.

Cuddy told me that he's obviously doing somewhat better. At least he isn't trying to fake brain cancer anymore. We talk at least once a week about random things. We talk in a quid pro quo style that mirrors Hannibal Lecter and Clarise Starling. I tell him things and he tells me things. My identity and previous secret are like a puzzle that he has worked on, but has yet to completely solve. After all, I was once just boring old Allison Cameron. Now, I'm a new puzzlement by the name of Charlie McGee. He may get a constant puzzle, but I love having someone to confide in that I can trust. He isn't going to betray me as John did. He'll never admit it, but I think he enjoys having someone to confide in that understands some of the pain. We've both been betrayed, though in different ways, and we both have to deal with the pain of that betrayal every single day.

I enjoy/tolerate two more weeks at home before I get cabin fever. I need to get out so I take a walk every morning. It's short and slow, but better than staying inside. I love the cool morning air and having the sun on my face. The clouds have become a great comfort to me being my source of water. My breathing is getting better and I am now able to take longer walks. However, I know that my lungs will never fully heal.

Once cabin fever set in, I invited Chase out for dinner. After almost killing myself, I felt the need to take care of some baggage. At first we sat calmly neither trying to speak. I stared out the window and he looked down at his food. Finally our eyes met.

"Chase, what's wrong?"

"When you were throwing fire; it scared the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry. I wish you hadn't seen that. I wish none of that had happened."

"You don't understand; I wasn't scared of you. I was scared for you. Allison, I was scared you were going to die."

I looked at my feet, "That was actually the plan."

"You wanted to die?"

"Not really, but I wanted all of this to be over. I've been avoiding this since I was little. Since I was eight, I've had this shadow hanging over me. I'm sorry for scaring you. That wasn't my intention."

"I know, but I couldn't imagine what I'd do if you had died. I said before that I think I'm falling in love with you. After seeing you like that, I wanted to help you more than anything. I wanted to protect you."

"Robert, I don't know how I feel right now. I was afraid to explore any kind of real relationship before. I mean, I've been looking over my shoulder for years. I've been a danger for as long as I can remember. I didn't want to hurt you."

"What about now?"

"I don't know. In my own way, I'm just starting to live again. I don't even really know the new me, yet. I don't want to rush into anything. I do know one thing; I don't want to be afraid anymore. How about we take things one day at a time and see where we go? Who knows you may not like the Allison Cameron that is really Charlie McGee."

"I think we could do that. Was the woman I knew before this real or was she totally fictious?"

"No, she was real, but a different kind of real. More like a shell of the real person."

I stared down at my food before looking up at him. I gave him the smile that had once charmed so many people. It was the beautiful smile that belonged entirely to Charlie McGee. If anything, my show of power had made me closer to my friends. Simply understanding what made me the person I am today, gave them a greater respect for me. I care so deeply for life because I never want to be alone again. I don't like breaking news to people because it just means that they are a step closer to being totally alone as I once was. My friends know this now. They can understand it. The respect I craved and had tried to get was now being given to me. It was mine now that I wasn't trying to be just the sweet innocent doctor.

Our dinner ended in silence, but it was more companionable. We were going to see where the future took us. He took me home and I fell into a restless sleep. My dreams filled with images of my Father, John, House, the woman in the red suit and my Mother. She hadn't been in my dreams for many years. Finally, the dreams subsided and I knew nothing else until the phone rang the next morning.

The phone was ringing interrupting my sleep, but I woke up and picked up the receiver. Putting it to my ear, I mumbled into it,

"Hello."

It was House, "I've made a deal with Cuddy. If you behave yourself, take it slow and have absolutely no contact with the patient you can come back to work today."

"I can come back to work?"

"Are you deaf? That's what I said."

I chose to ignore his barbs. "I'll be in as soon as I can." I dropped the phone and ran into my room. I pulled on pants and a shirt. After dressing, I stopped to breathe. Running had not been my smartest move. Finally, I pulled my lab coat and shoes on and left for the hospital. I tried to take deep breaths during the drive, but could barely keep my excitement down. I pulled into my spot in the parking lot. The name on the sign glared back at me and suddenly I didn't want to see it anymore.

I stepped inside and made my way into Cuddy's office. She was sitting behind her desk as I walked in.

"Dr. Cameron, can I help you?"

"Yeah, do you have any name tag stickers? I need one."

"You haven't been gone that long. I doubt anyone has forgotten your name."

"I know, but I still need one."

Cuddy dug around in her desk and finally produced one of those stickers I needed. I thanked her and left. The sticker was one of those ones that read, "Hello, My name is." I quickly wrote in the large white space and took the elevator upstairs to House's office. I couldn't believe that only eight weeks ago, I was racing down the stairs and bolting for what I thought was safety.

I arrived at the glass door and stared inside for a minute. House, Foreman, and Chase were sitting around the white board. Symptoms were written down and it was work as per usual. Finally ready to get back to a normal life, I reached over and opened the door. All three guys looked up at me and I swear they smiled. As I walked closer, they got to see my name tag. Nobody commented on it for a minute until House did and he snarked it out just like he did when any of us were late for work.

"You took forever to get here. You must drive like an old fart, Dr. McGee. Come on, people. What are we missing?"

Dr. McGee, I thought it had a nice ring to it. Allison Cameron was no more. I was, am and forever will be Dr. Charlie McGee.

Fin


End file.
